A Brother’s Loneliness

The air was crisp as the sun slowly dipped beyond the horizon. A light wind carried the scent of fresh grass through the quiet village, where the warmth of family homes contrasted with the cold loneliness in Zheng Zhi's heart.

He had come to pick up Zhang Yun, expecting a reunion, perhaps even a moment of relief. But instead of welcoming arms, he had been met with harsh words, anger burning in Zhang Yun's crimson eyes.

"Why did you even come here?" Zhang Yun's voice was cold, distant.

Zheng Zhi had flinched at the tone. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but the rejection still stung. His heart ached with unspoken words, with memories of a past that now felt like a dream.

Disheartened, Zheng Zhi turned and walked away. His shoulders slumped, his steps slow. The world around him blurred as his mind wandered, lost in the echoes of the past.

Memories of a Lost Childhood

When Zheng Zhi returned home, he stepped into the dimly lit room and closed the door behind him. His eyes instinctively landed on the old, worn-out photo resting on the wooden table.

A woman smiled gently from the faded image, her eyes full of warmth and love. Beside her stood two young boys—himself and Zhang Yun—a time when they were still whole, when they still had a family.

He picked up the frame with trembling hands.

"Mom… why did you leave me? My brother left me too."

His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of years of pain.

He sank onto the chair, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph, and his mind drifted back—back to a time when his world was still filled with his mother's laughter and his brother's companionship.

A Childhood of Warmth and Pain

"You can't, son. Now you're growing up."

Zheng Zhi had been a small boy, barely strong enough to lift a spade, but he had wanted to be like his older brother, Zhang Yun. He had watched his brother help their mother farm, and he, too, had wanted to carry that weight.

But their mother had stopped him, placing a hand on his small shoulders.

"Your brother and I are going to farm on the palm of your hand. Then you'll carry me on your back."

Her words had confused him back then. But now, he understood. She had wanted to protect him. To give him a future where he wouldn't have to suffer, where he wouldn't have to struggle under the weight of hardship.

But fate had been cruel.

At night, his mother would sing him a lullaby, her voice soft as she told the story of Sunkeshari Maya and Madhumati—a tale of love and sacrifice. He would listen, drifting into sleep as her voice wrapped around him like a warm embrace.

He remembered how she would place him on the grass outside the door, walking back and forth, her back bent from exhaustion. She had always wanted him to be happy. She had carried his burdens, taken on his suffering, so he wouldn't have to.

But in the end, it hadn't mattered.

The War That Stole Everything

Five years later, the war came.

Their country burned. Their people screamed. The sound of swords clashing and buildings collapsing haunted their nights.

Zhang Yun and Zheng Zhi's parents had been caught in the chaos. They never came back.

The brothers were left alone, two orphans in a world that had no place for them.

No one wanted them. No one reached out a helping hand.

Their aunt and uncle had eventually taken them in—but not out of love. It was duty, an obligation they did not want.

Their aunt was cruel, always finding reasons to beat them, treating them as burdens rather than family.

But then, something changed.

One day, their uncle discovered Zhang Yun's poetry talent.

From that moment on, their treatment shifted.

Zhang Yun was suddenly given better food, cleaner clothes, and a place by the fire. He was praised for his intelligence, for his skill with words.

And Zheng Zhi?

He was ignored. Forgotten. Pushed further into the shadows.

He had watched as his aunt and uncle began to love Zhang Yun, but not for who he was—only for what he could do.

They saw talent. A future. A means to elevate their status.

Zheng Zhi had never hated his brother. But as he sat there, staring at the photograph, he realized the truth.

He had always loved Zhang Yun.

But Zhang Yun… had never needed him.

And now, after everything, he had abandoned him too.

A Lonely Night

Zheng Zhi placed the photograph back on the table. His fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

He had come for his brother, but Zhang Yun had pushed him away.

The loneliness in his heart deepened.

"Brother… why did you leave me too?"

Outside, the wind howled through the night, carrying with it the echoes of a past that could never be reclaimed.